Woeful Whisperings
by JailyForever
Summary: Who is the whispering wizard? And how did he come to be this way? And why is the red hair so familiar?


**Team:** Holyhead Harpies

 **Position:** Keeper

 **Prompt:** Write about the Whispering Wizard

 **Word Count:** 985

* * *

Woeful Whisperings

Two quiet cracks signalled their arrival, under the cover of darkness, in the alley frequented by wizards who wished to keep their shady dealings a secret. The twins however were tracking a known Death Eater. They shared an identical grin as they followed Antonin Dolohov towards Borgin and Burkes—a favourite amongst wizards for off loading their less desirable items.

The two wizards cast a disillusionment charm on themselves before stealthily following Dolohov into the shop. Their assignment was to find out what Dolohov was attempting to purchase or sell and find out the purpose for it, and hopefully aid The Order in discovering what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was planning.

As they crept down the aisle, following their target towards the back room of the shop, they maintained their distance so as to avoid being detected. They were certain Dolohov had no idea they were tracking him, which is why it came as a surprise to them when they came face to face with him smirking.

"This is almost too easy," he muttered smugly as he raised his wand.

The twins exchanged looks of confusion as they reached for their own wands. In that moment they both knew the only way Dolohov could have known he was being tracked by them is if someone had told him, which only served to confirm what The Order had feared for the last few months—they had a mole in their midst..

"Stupefy," the man cried, sending both wizards flying backwards and crashing into the shelves.

~o~o~o~

The twins awoke and found themselves bound to a chair in the back room of Borgin and Burkes.

"Awake at last, I see," Dolohov whispered, twirling his wand in his hands. "Now, would you care to enlighten me as to why you two blood traitors are trailing me?"

"Death Eater scum," Fabian spat.

Dolohov raised his wand and pointed it straight at Fabian. "Crucio," he hissed.

Fabian cried out in pain as his body began to convulse against his bindings and his vision blurred. The agony was like nothing he had ever felt before, and Fabian knew that this was only a taste of what was to come.

"Now, now, Dolohov, don't have all of the fun," a high pitched voice said.

The pain stopped and as his vision returned Fabian saw that they had company in the form of Bellatrix Lestrange, the mistress of dealing out pain and suffering.

"As much as I loathe to admit it, Dolohov, you've done well capturing these two blood traitors," Bellatrix whispered. "How did you do it?"

"It was too easy," Dolohov admitted. "Their disillusionment charms were extremely ineffective and I'm quite certain they have no idea what stealth actually is."

"In other words you were told they would be following you," Bellatrix said, unimpressed. "So what was the old man's plan? Get you two imbeciles to track Dolohov and what? Discover The Dark Lord's grand master plan?"

The twins sat there in silence as Bellatrix continued to rant. They assessed their situation and plotted their escape.

"Well, answer me," Bellatrix yelled. "Crucio."

For the second time that day, pain ripped through Fabian's body and this time it was far more intense. If he had thought Dolohov's attack on him had been agonising, Bellatrix took it to a whole other level.

~o~o~o~

It was a widely accepted fact that he had died on their mission that day on Knockturn Alley at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange and Antonin Dolohov. The Death Eaters had spread the rumours of the twins' death, confident they had finished him off, and when he didn't show up at Headquarters in the subsequent days and The Order found no trace of his remains, they naturally assumed the worst.

The truth however didn't bear thinking about. Fabian Prewett faced a fate worse than death, and no one, not even his family knew. If he was still in his right mind, Fabian would be adamant it was better this way for everyone, but for the most part it was a lonely existence—one where he roamed Knockturn Alley as the fabled Whispering Wizard.

He spent his days talking to cracks in the wall as though it was his brother, warning him of the dangers to come and hoping beyond hope that he would be able to save him as he relived the same day over and over again. It was the last shred of sanity and his former life that Fabian had managed to cling onto and he refused to let it go.

In his day to day activities, no one so much as spared him a second glance or acknowledged his presence.

"Gideon," he whispered into the crack. "There he is. Let's take him down now."

He nodded at the crack in agreement. "We can do this."

Fabian turned his head and looked out onto the alley over the collar of his coat. He spied a man entering Borgin and Burkes and knew who it was. Antonin Dolohov wouldn't be so lucky this time. This time they would be ready for him.

"Come on, Gideon," he whispered to the crack in the wall. "Let's do this. Stay close, brother."

Fabian stayed close to the wall as he edged his way closer to the shop and slunk in after the Death Eater.

The owner of the shop spied him immediately and made his way over to him.

"Sir, how many times must I throw you out before you get the message that you are not welcome in this fine establishment?" he hissed, grabbing Fabian by the scruff of the neck.

"Dolohov," he whispered.

"Is dead. Has been for years," the shopkeeper answered gruffly, dragging him towards the door. "Out!"

The shopkeeper pushed Fabian and he fell to the ground with a thud.

"Don't worry, brother," he whispered. "We'll get Dolohov when he leaves, and we can inform The Order that Burke has aligned himself with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."


End file.
